


Indiscretion - A Lady's Dilemma

by jesymphony



Series: A Relationship in a Hundred Moments [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XIII, Final Fantasy XIII Series
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Angst, F/M, Pride and Prejudice where the lady doth protest too much, Romance, The Regency AU no one asked for
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2018-07-25 15:26:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7538056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jesymphony/pseuds/jesymphony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Farrons of Cocoon are a long established branch of the monarchy. Blue blooded and aristocratic to the core, with the lands and the servants to go with it. And like every other noble house, there was scandal to be had if one only looked close enough. Snow/Lightning, Regency AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 50. Affair; and 11. Disgust

**Author's Note:**

> Part of my 100 prompts series and as such this story will be told in a drabble-like format. I also apologise in advance as some of the etiquette and terminology may not be entirely accurate. Otherwise let's enjoy the ride!

  1. Affair




The Farrons of Cocoon are a long established branch of the monarchy. Blue blooded and aristocratic to the core, with the lands and the servants to go with it. And like every other noble house, there was scandal to be had if one only looked close enough. The most recent, the most whispered about in Society circles, were the tales of the late Duke's wandering wife. Beautiful and deceitful, a soul as black as her face was snow white, many believed the eldest daughter had been the result of an illicit affair with a butler, quickly dismissed despite years of service.

That was the reason why, everyone said, that the youngest daughter had been made heir to the estate. For the younger Lady Serah was almost certainly of the Duke's blood, seeing as she had to have been conceived in the years when the late Duchess was confined to the Farrons' country mansion in Pulse. Unkindly, most noted it was probably for the best. The elder Lady Claire had been decidedly unsuccessful at her debut, all icy standoffishness as if her lineage were so pure. Lady Serah, word had spread, was everything Lady Claire was not. Lady Serah's debut was to be this coming season, the first time the Farrons would be in the Cocoon Circle for years, and Society was aflutter with anticipation.

For despite the scandal, the Farron name was still peerage and there was wealth, untold wealth, wealth as could only belong to a Dukedom. And Lady Serah was to be a most attractive catch to those that could claim her.

 

* * *

 

  1. Disgust




Lady Claire Farron sat at her father's writing desk, biting her lip as she looked at the accounts. It was a terrible habit, one that a string of governesses and her father's displeasure had tried to break, but in times of great stress it would re-emerge with a vengeance.

The numbers were not lying to her. Upon paying for Serah's season, there would be no money left to pay for the Pulse manor staff. Claire had scrimped and saved as much as she could, Serah had put her magic to use in reinventing the gowns she had, but there were expectations of the daughter of a Duke. Her closet had to be immaculate, faultless, and that took money. Money the Farron estate would no longer have.

Claire had taken on the household accounts herself once it became clear that the Duchess could not handle the books on account of her constantly failing health. Claire had been astonished at what she'd discovered. Money leaking from every possible area, wasted on unnecessary staff, maintaining a pond that no one visited, horses no one rode. The Farrons had been close to bankruptcy then, and now all these years later, the Farron estate was barely getting by on a shoestring.

Upon her parents' death Claire had taken the books to the Farron solicitor, seventeen and terrified of what the numbers meant. The kindly man had sighed and shook his head over the accounts, before looking up at her with sympathy in his eyes.

_Have hope, dear. We may be able to get through this yet._

Together they'd formulated a plan. Cut down the staff to the bare minimum, sell off what they could quietly. The Farron name had to be preserved. No one could know what dire straits the estate faced if they wanted to save Serah's prospects to marry well, as the estate needed her to. There was no hope for Claire, not with the disastrous season she'd had. But Serah- Serah could be saved. If Serah could marry as the heir to a dukedom ought, her life and the estate would be secure.

It was a reasonable plan, indeed the only plan, but it still worried at her. Claire wanted nothing more than for her sister to be happy. She would have destroyed worlds to make her sister happy. And even though Serah had agreed to the plan, agreed so selflessly to marry herself away to the highest bidder as it were, Claire was still disgusted with herself for allowing things to get to this point. If she'd been more aware, more alert, she should have been able to see the signs. If she'd known she wouldn't have allowed herself to be so disappointing at her season. She would have been able to save Serah without requiring her little sister to sacrifice a thing.

But here they were. And Claire could not help but feel as if she had failed.

 


	2. 14. Chair

14\. Chair


Claire had been at the desk, frantically dashing off correspondence to confirm carriages and dress fittings when Serah had entered. At first she paid her little sister no heed, knowing that she would eventually speak, but when no sound issued forth Claire signed off her name and looked up with a puzzled brow. “What is it, Serah?”

Serah Farron, eighteen and unspeakably lovely even though she was wearing the drabbest of her gowns, shuffled her feet and began to fidget with the tail of her hair.

With a sigh, Claire stood. “How many times have I told you? You need to start holding yourself as a Lady at all times now, Serah. We leave for Cocoon in the morning, and once we arrive you are going to be observed every second.”

Silence. Claire frowned. This was uncharacteristic. But before she could raise another question-

“I don't have to go to Cocoon anymore.”

If Claire had been less stalwart of a character, she'd have fallen to the floor. “What?”

“The only reason we’re going to Cocoon is to find someone for me to marry. But if I've already found someone, then we don't have to go to Cocoon right? We can save the money.”

“The deposits have already been paid.” Claire narrowed her eyes, taking in the flush of her sister's cheeks. The decided way she was looking anywhere but right at her. “And what do you mean by 'already found someone'?”

Serah's face turned bright red. “If someone's made me an offer, we don't have to go, right?”

“Serah-” Claire began warningly.

Recognising the tone, Serah stood up straight with that stubbornness in her clear eyes that made Claire immediately wary. “Someone proposed to me this morning and I intend to accept. He's coming to speak to you within the hour for permission.”

That was more than Claire's character could manage. Hopefully with more grace and rather less like her knees had dissolved, Claire sank back into her father's chair, feeling for the world as if the floor had dissipated beneath her feet.


	3. 37. Loud; 67. Confused

37\. Loud


The scoundrel's name was Villiers, a Pulsian merchant. He'd proclaimed that she was to address him as 'Snow' and Claire was more certain than before that he could not be allowed anywhere near Serah. She did not take the hand Snow proffered to her, instead looking at it with all the disdain and distaste she felt. He eventually retracted the offending limb, but the significance of her reaction was all but lost to whatever resided underneath the mop of shockingly unkempt hair.

“Explain yourself,” she eventually grated out, and Snow smiled at her, all open warm ridiculousness like a puppy.

“Miss Serah was out in the market one day and we got to talking. After a few weeks she eventually lets on she's in a bit of a financial state. I like her well enough, so I offered to marry her.”

Claire can only blink. “You have got to be in jest.”

“I'm deadly serious, Miss Claire.” And though Claire bristled at his casual address of her, she could tell instantly by the look in his eyes that he wasn't lying to her. “I don't like seeing a lady in distress.”

“Serah is not just some market wench, Mr Villiers,” Claire hissed, “Serah is a Lady. Daughter and heir to the Farron Dukedom. The man she marries will inherit the title and the estate. What makes you think you are worthy to even look upon her?”

“What makes you so sure I'm not?”

And even though it shouldn't have, even though this wretch shouldn't have any effect on her, the blue of his eyes was striking and echoed against something deep within her. There was something in the frankness of his gaze, the steadiness and confidence of his stature that made Claire feel-

No. “Serah is to marry into the heights of Cocoon Society, Mr Villiers. She is meant for more than a life with a mere merchant of Pulse.”

He sighed, flopping his incomprehensible bulk into one of the chairs opposite her and Claire was somewhat surprised the chair didn't give way. “For someone who lives here, you don't know anything about Pulse, do you?”

Claire coated her words and eyes in ice. Pulling on the armour, refusing to let this man affect her. She had a plan. She would stick to the plan. “Enlighten me.”

“The Villiers are the most prominent merchants around. We run an enterprise, supplying everything that could be transported to Cocoon and back. If you can name it, we deal with it. If you want it, we provide it.” Snow's entire body language changed, suddenly serious and Claire swallowed deep as something unsettled and anxious began to churn in her stomach. “I'm the head of the family and head of the business. I don't usually talk money, but I probably make more in a month than what you can generate from your lands in a year. I may not be one of your Society fops, Miss Claire, but I am as well heeled as the best of them.”

 _Oh God._ “Does Serah know this?”

“Be surprising if she didn't, seeing as the market she goes to every few days has my name on the entrance arch.”

It all began to come together in a sickening sort of sense. Claire wiped her hand across her eyes, feeling the most vicious headache and a curious swelling around her heart. “She agreed to marry you to save the estate the expense of her Season,” she muttered, half to herself. “The little-”

“Are you all right, Miss Claire?”

When she opened her eyes, she was instantly startled by how close Snow had come to her. Without her noticing he'd stood up from his chair, leaned across the desk and now his face was far too near. Brain momentarily frozen, Claire could not help but notice just how attractive his features were. The length of his eyelashes, the strength of his jawline, the pleasing fullness of his lips-

She shot back as far as she could in her father’s chair, knowing from his expression that her reaction must have been altogether disproportionate and misplaced for a Lady of her rank. Claire coughed, trying desperately to cover up the heat of her cheeks as she fought to regain control of her thoughts. “In any case, as much as your gallantry is appreciated, I cannot permit you to marry Serah.”

“Why not?” Thankfully, Snow retreated back to his chair and Claire was finally able to regain some semblance of breath. “We get on, which is more than what most Society couples can say. She needs to marry into money, and I wouldn't mind having someone like her around to brighten up my days.”

“Serah is not just to marry for money, Mr Villiers. Serah cannot marry below her station.”

“And why's that?”

Claire tried to find the words, unsure of why this merchant could so effectively distort her coherence. “Well- that is because- because that is how her future, the Farron name, her children will be secure. How she will be happy.”

Snow's eyes were much too piercing for her liking. She did not like how he looked at her as if he knew something she did not. “What if you're wrong?”

“I am not wrong,” she retorted much too loudly. But this man had stormed into her life and was now pulling up all her plans by the roots. Upsetting everything. Ruining _everything_. “Life for us is different than life for you, Mr Villiers. For you it may be simple and carefree, as it tends to be for a man that can make his own way, but for us women we do not have such freedoms. What is Serah to do should your enterprise fail? How will you provide for her then? Is she to work for her living? A Duchess, reduced to selling apples at a market?”

Claire was practically shouting at this point, but she didn't care. She didn't care because here this man was, breezing in like some white knight as if all their troubles could be saved just by him extending his hand in marriage. “Serah must be cared for, for the rest of her life. In comfort, in safety, in good standing and with her reputation pure and unmarked. As her children's lives will also require. She could not be happy otherwise. That is why, Mr Villiers. That is why I cannot permit you to marry her.”

She was trembling by the end. Furious and enraged for no reason other than this man disrupting her best laid plans. The fact that his entrance into their lives was so easily unravelling the plans she'd spent the last few years of her life arranging.

Claire could not remember the last time she'd lost control of her emotions so thoroughly.

 

* * *

67\. Confused


“What if she doesn't receive an offer?”

Claire halted in her tracks, her hand frozen around the doorknob which she'd been about to turn so she could order him out. “What?”

Snow walked up behind her, once again casually coming too close to her as he looked down at her with an unreadable expression. “What if this proposal from some wealthy worthy Society bachelor doesn't arrive? Then what?”

“I-” Claire found herself at a loss. Hating that she didn't have a response. She'd never contemplated Serah failing to charm someone proper. Serah was a gem, a flower, a treasure, everything she hadn't been. Claire had half believed Serah would be receiving offers on her second day of the season.

“You don't have a back up plan.” Snow's voice was very soft, sympathetic and she could not _stand_ that. Him acting as if he understood. As if he knew what she, what they were going through.

“T- There doesn't need to be one. Serah will not fail.”

“No. But the men might.”

Confused, she could not help but look up at him and be once again struck still and silent at the look in Snow's blue eyes. “I don't-”

“You're so sure there'll be someone who fits all your criteria in Cocoon,” he said in that same low voice, a voice that trailed along her spine in an impermissibly intimate way and Claire was suddenly deeply aware of how she was boxed in by him at her front and the door at her back. “I hope you're not disappointed, Miss Claire.”


End file.
